Dilemmas and How Tony Stark Handles Them
by FelixFelicis-LiquidLuck
Summary: Tony Stark has a grand total of two ways to handling a problem. One, throw money at it until it goes away. Two, ignore it until it goes away. Three, let Pepper handle it. There's a fourth one on the list now, but Bruce would prefer if that was something that stayed between the two of them. (aka Bruce Banner has a sexuality crisis that's considerably later than the average one)


Bruce frowned at the floor, thinking.

"Bruce, are you going to sulk all day or are you going to have dinner?" Steve called through the door. He had asked Jarvis to not let anyone into his room in the hopes that they would get the hint and leave him well alone, but it would probably take more than that to stop Captain America and his insistence on everyone eating dinner together like a _family_.

"I'm not hungry," he replied in an almost petulant tone.

He _knew_ he was being stupid. He just didn't particularly care.

Bruce sighed and wondered where Tony was at this point. Probably trying to avoid the 'family dinner'.

He'd always confided in Tony. Thor wasn't exactly the best listener with his short attention span and tendency to get distracted, and Clint's advice always consisted of 'smash them', even when there _wasn't_ a 'them'. Steve would always bring out the good ol' American righteousness that Bruce didn't really know how to respond to, Natasha didn't understand why he wouldn't just kill whoever was hurting him and be done with it.

Tony, for all his eccentrics habits and claims of not giving a shit, was actually the best to go to for advice for most things.

A soft knock to the door and Bruce looked up, wondering if it was Steve. But then the soft knocking turned into a hammering that Bruce had learn was the knock that said, 'Tony motherfucking Stark is at the door so you better open the fuck up because this is my tower and my security system and I will barge in with or without your consent, you fucker.'

Bruce smothered a laugh and got up to open the door. And sure enough, there was Tony, grinning so brightly Bruce began to vaguely wonder if he had ever considered a career as a light bulb.

Bruce gave a small smile at the familiar sight, forgetting about his sulk for a second.

"You okay?" Tony asked, walking past Bruce to sit on his bed. Bruce found he couldn't complain - it _was_ his tower, after all.

"Yeah," he replied neutrally. "Why?"

Tony gave him a skeptical look.

"Is that why you've been sulking all day?"

"I haven't been sulking," Bruce protested, sitting next to him on the bed. It was a nice bed, fancier than Bruce was used to, with goose feather pillows and a mattress soft enough that getting up in the morning required double the effort.

Tony rolled his eyes, leaning back so that he was lying across the width of the mattress. After a pause, he patted the space next to him, and Bruce lay down next to him, both their feet dangling off the edge.

They stared at the ceiling in silence for a while.

"I think I'm gay," Bruce blurted out suddenly. He turned his head to watch Tony carefully for a reaction but his face gave nothing away.

"Bit late in life for a sexuality crisis. They usually appear before now. How long since you started thinking about it?" Tony asks casually, as though they're not talking about when Bruce realized he prefered dicks over vaginas.

"Um, I kind of suspected it for ages but then I accidentally clicked on a porn link and it was kind of... weird. Like, urgh weird," Bruce mumbled, feeling embarrassed. Tony was right - sexuality crises were for high school kids, not fully grown men like him. "What if I rape the other Avengers in my sleep?"

Tony raised his eyebrows at that, clearly amused, and Bruce decided yeah, okay, he kind of _was_ exaggerating.

"But I thought you said you weren't sure?" Tony frowned.

"I'm not," Bruce confirmed. They go silent for a while longer and when Bruce looks at Tony again, his forehead is scrunched like he's thinking hard.

"Yes?" Bruce prompted quietly, curious, after waiting for him to speak for a good minute or so.

"Nothing," Tony smiled suddenly and Bruce squirmed because Tony has a cute smile, okay? His grin has always been acknowledged as the sexiest thing since the dawn of time by many but a lot of people don't get to see his more sincere smiles. It was on the same level of cuteness as fluffy bunnies and kittens walking for the first time.

Not that Bruce would admit that to Tony's face. God knows his ego doesn't need any more fuel.

"What if-" Tony suddenly starts before shutting up again. "Forget it."

"Tell," Bruce says immediately, nudging him. Tony gave him an uncertain look.

"I promise I won't judge you," Bruce smiled softly. Tony grinned. It was one of the first words Tony had said to him after their first encounter. They had been working in the lab together and Bruce had been slightly wary after the 'enormous green rage monster' comment. Tony had patted him on the back and promised that even if Bruce smashed the entire population of New York into debris, he still wouldn't judge him.

"Do you want to... test it?" Tony asked quietly, looking back at the ceiling. Bruce raised an eyebrow; it was the first time he had seen Tony frigging Stark act almost... shy.

"Test what?"

"Um, if you're... gay or not," Tony muttered, rolling his eyes. "Duh. What else were we talking about?" And is that a blush?

"How?" Bruce asked gently, not wanting to embarrass the other as he visibly hesitated before mumbling something.

"Sorry?"

"I said," Tony repeated, brow furrowed frustratedly and his cheeks looking significantly pinker. "How about you kiss me? You know, as an experiment. As science."

Bruce stared. Was he offering to... or was Bruce just reading the situation wrong?

"Never mind," Tony said immediately, moving to get up but Bruce shook his head, resting a hand on Tony's shoulder.

"Please," Bruce said. He couldn't help but wonder what the hell he was getting himself into. He felt the thrill run through his veins, the same thrill that he always felt when he let himself be spontaneous for once, the rare moments when he'd let himself go.

Tony paused, before sitting up. Bruce sat up next to him and they looked at each other and oh, when had they gotten so close? Their faces were just inches away from one another and Bruce was so close he could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes and could probably count each individual eyelash.

Tony shuffled a little closer until their thighs are pressed against each other before looking up for confirmation. Bruce nodded, swallowing the feeling that what happened next could potentially affect the rest of his damn life. Their lips are less than a finger's breadth away and he can feel Tony's breath tickling his face softly.

Tony's hand came up to his shoulder, pulling him closer until their bodies are pressed together, his other hand resting on Bruce's thigh and fuck, where the hell was Bruce supposed to put his hands? Around Tony's waist, in his hair, cupping his face, _what was he supposed to do here_?

Tony took pity on him and, with the smallest huff of laughter, took Bruce's hand and placed in around his own waist. His other hand hesitantly came up to tangle itself in Tony's hair and Tony grinned in approval.

And before Bruce can even process that _they're actually going to kiss_ , Tony moved forward and caught Bruce's lips in his own, soft and hesitant. Bruce breathed in through his nose and Tony's faintly-spicy cologne must have given him some sort of courage because he kissed back. Tony's lips were soft, slightly chapped but yielding against his own and Bruce decided that he wouldn't mind spending the rest of his life here, on this bed, kissing a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist.

Finally, they moved apart to breathe because apparently Bruce had forgotten that it was a necessary process and his lungs decided he needed a reminder.

"That was. Wow. Um, yeah," Bruce stuttered, slightly dazed.

"You're a mess," Tony laughed, trying to smooth down Bruce's hair.

Tony didn't look much better. Bruce, at some point, had managed to convince Tony's hair to defy all laws of gravity and the material of Tony's shirt showed clear signs of someone clenching it.

"So...?" Tony asked expectantly. Bruce noted the way he was tapping his thigh, a sign of his nerves. He smiled - at least he wasn't the only one nervous then.

"I, uh, It was... nice," Bruce said eventually, nodding. Tony laughed suddenly, eyes crinkling in the corners as his mouth stretched.

"Nice? _Nice_? That's the best you can come up with? I'll have you know that I am very offended, Dr Banner. There have been odes written to my kissing skills, entire compilations of dramatic poetry dedicated to my lips-"

"Oh, shut up," Bruce said, rolling his eyes and suppressing a smile. "Your ego needs flattening, I swear."

Tony grinned. "Well, I'm just glad we're in mutual agreement then."

"You agree that your ego needs flattening?" Bruce asked sceptically. Since when did Tony admit to being big-headed? Now _that_ was something to go down in history.

"No," Tony snorted. "I was talking about the kiss, idiot. I'm too modest to have my ego flattened even further."

Bruce opened his mouth to argue but ended up flattened to the bed with a lap full of Tony straddling his hips and kissing him with a lot less caution than before. Somehow, Bruce can't bring himself to complain.

(It's kind of hard to speak when you've got a hot guy's tongue down your throat anyway.)


End file.
